Although it would seem that both Frankie and I went to Hollywood at the beginning of the wonderful 1980s, I was there first and the almost comical or satiric band from Liverpool followed a couple of years later. It could be said that I found a camaraderie with the music of Frankie Goes to Hollywood in that I believed wholeheartedly throughout my younger life that pushing buttons was a formidable way to gain attention. In 1983 I came out as gay after years of hiding angrily in a closet, feeling inferior and damaged. I would be lying if I said I did not have a resentment against the ‘normal’ or political world at that time because of it. I can’t say that I was ready to battle with anyone in my newfound (slowly evolving) freedom of authenticity, but I definitely do feel I was ready to protest through identification with those I felt exemplified my personal mindset.
Part of me would tell you that I have never wanted to be an overly political individual. The only things I remember about politics in my youth were the death of John F. Kennedy (I remember coming home and seeing my mother cry), and the shenanigans of Richard M. Nixon, who I knew was a bad guy only through the atmosphere and environment I was in. I learned more about each over the years, but neither really played a significant role in shaping my personal beliefs. I came of age to vote in 1976 and voted for Jimmy Carter, who I can honestly say just seemed like the better candidate. I can’t honestly say that I did so out of being a ‘Democrat’ or a ‘Republican’ quite yet, although I did have hair down to the middle of my back and spent most of my day smoking pot and drinking.
It was the beliefs and principles of my sexuality that really began shaping who I would be politically throughout my adult life. Being that I held them so close until the early 1980s, they came to fruition with the dawn of the AIDS epidemic and the communities and art forms that began to allow people like me to start to feel included and proud to be something that had always felt so immoral and incorrect.
Because music always raises me to higher levels, and because artists can portray protest or push envelopes in ways that will push controversy and promote relevance, I began to associate with certain sounds and bands not only because of what they were saying but because of who they were and how I identified. There were obvious precursors in the late 1960s and the 1970s with artists like David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, the androgyny of glam rock, and Elton John, who personified the truth of being oneself even before he admitted his sexuality public. In all of these examples, I was able to recognize myself to different degrees and feel a little less separate from others.
But the 1980’s, and my arrival in Los Angeles opened up bigger and more practical worlds for me to swim in. I began to hear and identify with groups like Communards, and its lead Jimmy Sommerville, Marc Almond and Soft Cell, Neil Tennant and The Pet Shop Boys, Michael Stipe and REM, Boy George and Culture Club, George Michael with Wham! (we knew), and any number of other artists who wore their sexuality and the strength of being themselves right out there for everyone to see. Even the artists who embraced the gay culture that was rising steadily, like Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, Donna Summer, and Kylie Minogue were allowing me to become strong both personally and politically in that I was opening up and caring less about what others thought.
Then, in the early 1980s came an artist who brought in the full throttle, guns-blazing realness of sexuality, gayness, controversy, authenticity, fun, and in-your-face politics, all wrapped up in a lively party of music and video. Frankie Goes to Hollywood, and its lead singer Holly Johnson released an album called “Welcome to the Pleasuredome” and the first single “Relax” opened up a can of whoopass on the UK, the BBC, and eventually over in the United States as well. This first taste was a lively, steady stomping beat mixed with the synthesizers of the day. The original video was like a walk through a wild leather bar, complete with drag queens, and even a Roman-styled Ceaser up in the rafters eating grapes and watching the full festivities. The original video was not allowed to be played on BBC and MTV back in those days, and in the UK, the song was banned from radio play for a good portion of its original run (it was released several times) because of the sexual lyrics, which pretty much is all about delaying an ejaculation. If this was going to make people uncomfortable and become a political no-no, I was in.
But it was their second release from “Welcome to the Pleasuredome” that I highlight today because of its satire and pointed mockery of early 1980s President Ronald Reagan. At this point in my life, I tried to stay out of American politics, but the standard hatred of this man was contagious in the gay community, and it was hard not to understand why. In “Two Tribes” the lyric is inspired by Reagan’s belief that Christ would return after a nuclear war. The two tribes represented in the song (and the video) are the United States and the Soviet Union, which at the time were engaged in a cold war. In the video Reagan and then Soviet leader Konstantin Chernenko are in hand-to-hand combat within a boxing-type ring and screaming participants all around egging them on.
To this day I see my politics more clearly when satirized or represented in all its own ridiculous glory in film, documentary, music, and music video. The clarity is not always there in real life. I maintain that much of the country we live in is just not smart enough to see the con and I will never be powerful enough to stop it. So, I will continue to put on my headphones and listen to the music that inspires, reminds, and entertains me on every occasion possible.
When two tribes go to war
A point is all that you can score (score them all, score them all)
When two tribes go to war
A point is all that you can score (working for the black gas)